What Happens Then
by stranger12
Summary: He didn't think this was what Harry had in mind for him
**Dexter – What Happens Then**

He didn't think this was what Harry had in mind for him

* * *

It was Halloween, and Deb had made Dexter dress as Zorro, much to his immense chagrin (perhaps one of the reason why she made him do it in the first place), to a party she was insisting on dragging him to, saying he needed to get himself out there if he 'wanted to get laid before he was ninety'. She put on a skin tight police officer–type of outfit that Dexter thought looked alright (she slapped his arm when he told her as much, saying she wanted to look 'fucking hot!', but he retorted that he was her brother, and she just grumbled away).

Dexter found himself in a corner at the party, as usual uncomfortable with crowds, drinking, loudness and lewd behavior. Deb, of course, was well into her fourth drink, and enjoying herself immensely. Dexter figured that, if at least one Morgan had a good time that night, it was just as well that it was his sister, since at least her enjoyment wouldn't involve slipping knives into people's chests like his probably would be.

He filled his mind by observing the partygoers and trying to see if he could guess which, if any, might one day find themselves under his particular kind of scrutiny. He saw hints of abuse, the physical, emotional and substance kind, he saw others kind of like him, who laughed and smiled and mingled but meant nothing by it all, and he noticed a couple of people he would make sure to remember to check on in the future.

Eventually, it had been plenty of time since the Morgans arrived, and Dexter decided he had endured enough social interaction to please Deb. Though she frowned at him, she relented and waved her drink in his direction as he bid her goodbye and nodded politely at her friends, or just drinking companions, he wasn't quite sure which role each person around her filled.

Then, just as he was getting close to his car, he heard it. A muffled scream, hushed threats, and he could almost smell fear and adrenaline in the clammy Miami night. He soundlessly followed his instincts and sure enough, he found a woman with her once nurse's costume ripped by the knife one of the two men over her was holding, if he had to take a guess. It was clear the men had taken care to find a quieter spot to attack her, and hadn't counted on someone of Dexter's caliber to come across them.

Finally, Dexter was going to have some Halloween fun.

"Good evening" – he greeted pleasantly, and the men turned in surprise. One wore a cheap red Power Rangers' mask, the other just face paint, but Dexter could tell they were not the kind of usual prey he went after, though, like any good hunter, he wasn't about to deny himself the feast before him – "Do we have any problems here?"

"Hey, man, you better keep walking, nothing for you to see here" – Red snarled, as if he actually thought it would intimidate Dexter. Maybe it had scared off others in the past and made him cocky, maybe it was the fact both men were taller and broader than him, and that hunting knife in Face Paint's hand.

"Seems there's plenty to see here, actually" – he looked at the frozen woman, still half lying on the grass, eyes wide and pleading.

"Let me be clear, man. You better walk away, this ain't a party"

"Fair enough" – Dexter looked at the woman again and winked – "We'll leave and let you two go without a fuss, how's that sound?"

"She's ours, you little shit"

"My sister can cuss better than that" – Dexter quipped, channeling all the wit Deb had unknowingly bestowed upon him over the years.

Red lunged at him with a groan, but Dexter was more than ready for the attack, and put him down quick and dirty, mixing his fighting skills, growing up with a scrappy sister and a tough as nails dad. His opponent never had much of a chance.

Face Paint seemed uneasy at the way Dexter so easily put his buddy in the ground, and even with the knife in hand, he seemed wary.

"You can still walk away" – Dexter told him, putting an extremely painful heel into the downed man's kidney. Face Paint nodded and Dexter grinned, all teeth and promises of pain, and with quick movements, he kicked the knife off his loose grip, and punched, kicked and beat until the bigger man couldn't stand up anymore.

"Oh God" – the woman whispered – "Are they–?"

"No, don't worry, they'll be around to answer for what they did to you"

"Thank you, thank you so much! They came out of nowhere, I don't–" – she looked down at herself, blushed and tried to cover her mostly naked body, but it was futile. Dexter removed his cape and laid it on her shoulders just before he pulled out his cell.

"Hey, Deb. So, hum, I'm sorry to call you out of the party... But I've come across someone who needs some actual cop assistance. Yeah. Hum... You know where I parked? I'm across the way, in the park. Yeah. Gonna need some help with a couple of assholes, just up your alley. Yeah. Yeah, okay, see you. Well, my sister is coming right over, so you'll be okay, alright?" – he told the woman, who sniffed.

"Is she a cop?"

"Yeap, and trust me, when she gets one look at what these two did to you, they'll wish I'd kicked their asses harder" – she gave him a barely there, shaky smile.

Deb came over promptly, looking only slightly drunk, but she swiftly went into cop mode, cuffed the groaning men and got to comforting the victim. Dexter stood back, hands in pockets, even as Deb got her phone and barked orders for a car to come pick the two 'scumbags, waste of space wannabe rapists!' and an ambulance for the woman.

"Wow, Morgan, you sure did a number on these two! Should we get 'em in the ambulance?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. And I didn't do it, Dex did" – the officers turned with incredulous stares at the blood splatter expert.

"YOU got these two dumbasses?" – Dexter shrugged.

"They were going to hurt her, I wasn't about to let that happen"

"I think they're just a little shocked you're such a badass, bro" – Deb teased.

"It was nothing"

"That one idiot had a hunting knife on him" – one of the officers pointed out.

"Sure, but they weren't that fast, or useful once the knife was no longer in play" – he glanced at the ambulance and bowed out of the conversation.

The woman he'd helped, Camille Clarke, had only mild cuts and bruises and had not been raped, though she whispered they had been just about to do it when he arrived. She grabbed his hand and started crying. He froze and looked helplessly at the paramedics, who merely grinned mischievously at him.

"Thank you so much, thank you!" – she sobbed as he awkwardly patted her shoulder.

"It's fine, really, I did what anyone would've done"

"No, they wouldn't! My asshole boyfriend ran the fuck off when they came!"

"I take you're breaking off with him after this?" – she snorted.

"You bet. He's so dead, his dad's going to kill him for leaving me behind like that, the fucking coward" – Dexter's eyebrows rose as he mused at how he'd just assisted a woman with a mouth about as dirty as his sister's (though not really, Deb was still Miami's reigning potty mouth champion).

"It's all gonna be alright. These guys are gonna patch you up in no time"

"Yeah. I... God, I don't even know your name"

"Dexter Morgan"

"And you're sure you're not a cop too?"

"Nah. I work with the police, though, as a blood splatter analyst"

"Oh. Where did you learn those moves, then?" – he grinned a little.

"Let's just say that my sister may look all talk, but she's got one hell of a right hook, so our dad had to teach me a few tricks" – that got Camille chuckling.

"I guess I'm gonna have to start taking some self defense lessons"

"Always a good idea. If any other guy tries anything with you, just remember, a swift kick to the balls will down the biggest of them all"

"Will try to keep that in mind. Thank you, again, really, I can't possibly thank you enough–"

"It's enough to know that you're alright, and that they're going to jail"

"Yeah they are. I'm gonna be there to testify against them, believe it" – she stopped and hesitated – "Are you going to be there too?" – he patted her a final time and retrieved his hand.

"I think I'll have to, considering what I did"

"Yeah, I guess. I... Thank you, Mr. Morgan"

"Dexter is fine"

"Dexter. Thank you again"

"You're welcome, Ms. Clarke"

"And it's Camille"

"Sure. You take care now, okay?"

"I will" – he waved at her, nodded at the amused paramedics and walked back to Deb and the officers.

"You did good, big brother" – the woman said with a grin – "I guess I picked the right costume after all, huh? Gonna let 'er keep the cape?"

"I guess it's a small price to pay, if it'll give her some comfort" – Deb smirked.

"Oh, trust me, that cape right there?" – that was now on Camille's lap – "That's going on an entire Dexter Morgan, caped savior altar, mark my works"

"That's ridiculous"

"And you are clearly underestimating the visual you probably gave her, a tall, dark and chivalrous hero coming to her rescue who even gives her his own cape so she could protect herself with"

"Deb–"

"Hey, Dex, c'mon, you know I'm just teasing, but it's good to see someone else know you're a hero after all"

"No, I'm not"

"Yes you are. Now, c'mon, hero, drive me back to the precinct, 'cause 'm still a lil' bit drunk from the party"

"Will do"

"Hero" – she teased as they went back to his car.

"I'll leave you behind"

"Mean hero" – she mumbled, but her grin was genuine, bright and it made Dexter feel like the night hadn't been all that bad after all.

Zorro costume and all.

* * *

Another way Dexter could've been a hero.


End file.
